


Meeting the (Potential) In-Laws

by RainyMeadows



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series, Layton Kyouju vs Gyakuten Saiban | Professor Layton vs. Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Awkward Tension, Awkwardness, Disbarred Phoenix Wright, First Meetings, Gay Panic, M/M, Phoenix Wright is very sad, Post-Canon, cringe comedy, that thing where an older family member meets another family member's new partner and it's awkward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25152100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainyMeadows/pseuds/RainyMeadows
Summary: Des meets the man his brother is so enamoured with, but he isn't entirely sure if he likes this upstart American...Loosely tied to The Families of Jean Descole.
Relationships: Hershel Layton/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	Meeting the (Potential) In-Laws

Lips pursed in thought, Des looked the man up and down.

“So,” he said steadily. “You’re the man my brother’s spoken of so highly, are you?”

The American shrugged his shoulders.

“Guess I am,” he replied.

Des wasn’t sure what he had expected of the American lawyer Hershel had told him about. He’d said the man was relatively tall, handsome, and very respectable, and the mention of his profession had led Des to envision someone…

…not like this.

“I have to say,” he said, “I rather expected you to be…”

What was a way to phrase it that wouldn’t cause offense?

“…tidier.”

The American – Phoenix, he recalled – blinked at him in confusion.

“I’m… sorry?” he responded.

What a _mess_ his brother had dragged into the house, Des thought. Average height, he had realised, most likely only tall to a person of a stature as diminutive as Hershel’s. Early thirties. Far younger than he had expected (Hershel, you sneaky little cradle-snatcher). Dressed in sweatpants and the most hideous grey _thing_ Des had ever seen draped around a human body, not complimented in the slightest by the outrageous cap of brilliant cyan perched atop his head.

It was all Des could do not to grab a knife from the kitchen and threaten him out the door with it.

“Maybe you want to tell me what you _were_ expecting?” the shabby man demanded.

“Well, Hershel told me that you’re a lawyer,” Des explained.

“Oh.” Phoenix sighed and pressed a hand against his head. “Yeah, I’m kind of, uh…”

Des rolled his eyes.

“Heaven’s sake,” he groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re unemployed!”

“I’m not, I’m not!” Phoenix insisted. “I’m just, um…” He rubbed the back of his head. “Just not a lawyer _right now_ , is all. It’s not something I really want to get into, but…”

Des crossed his arms, still eyeing the man with all the scepticism he could muster.

“And what, may I ask,” he said, trying oh so hard not to scream, “is a man of your…”

Again, he wracked his brain for the politest wording.

“…a man of your _ilk,_ ” he settled on, “doing taking an interest in my little brother? Would you care to explain your intentions towards him?”

“Oh my god,” Phoenix sighed, glancing around the foyer as if searching for an escape. “Is this actually happening? Are you really going to do the whole overprotective elder relative thing?”

Des’ frown deepened.

Could there perhaps be some brains underneath that disgusting hat?

“Exactly how much do you know about my brother, Mr Wright?” Des inquired.

Phoenix frowned down at him, and Des tried to ignore the fact that this American was a good couple of inches taller than him.

“I know that he’s a professor of archaeology at Gressenheller University,” he stated, “who often gets side-tracked by investigations and solving mysteries. He loves puzzles and tea and he’s a damn good dad, and he’s easily one of the smartest and kindest people I’ve ever met.”

It was impossible to tell what colour his eyes were in this light. Grey? Blue? Brown? Some combination thereof?

Whatever colour they were, those eyes were narrowed down at Des with unmistakable frustration.

“Is that what you wanted to hear?” Phoenix asked. “Or would you rather I said I only want Hershel because he’s built like Adonis and his butt is out of this world?”

The intensity of his gaze faltered.

“I mean, that’s totally true,” he said, “but I’m not dumb enough to only see what he looks like.”

Des’ fingers curled into a fist.

“Might I ask how old you are, Mr Wright?” he asked.

“Recently turned thirty-three,” Phoenix replied flippantly. “Why?”

Damn, Hershel. A man a full _eleven years younger_ than you?!

“Are you going anywhere with this?” Phoenix asked. “Or are you just going to stand me in this hallway and interrogate me for the rest of the night?”

Des tapped his foot.

“I may not have shared a majority of my time in this world with Hershel,” he said as solidly as he could, “but now that the two of us are finally able to share a peaceful life, I will not have anything or anyone come waltzing into our house and disturbing that peace.”

He pointed the most threatening finger he could muster directly at Phoenix’s face.

“If I hear even the faintest whisper of you mistreating my brother,” he hissed, “I will see what’s left of you shipped back to Los Angeles in a shoebox. Do you understand?”

He held his finger in place, waiting for the shabby American to respond.

Phoenix just sighed and pushed that finger away.

“Do you really think you’re the scariest person I’ve ever met?”

The fire in Des’ belly faltered.

Weren’t people usually supposed to say things like that as a threat?

This man just sounded…

…tired?

Des relaxed away from him.

“And what in the world is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

Phoenix rolled his eyes.

“Look,” he said, “if you’re going to try to kill me, just get it over with, okay?”

A thrill of shock washed over Des’ body.

“What?!” he spluttered.

“Dancing around it’s just embarrassing,” said Phoenix. “I know how this goes by now. I’m dating someone you know and you don’t like me because of that, or you just don’t like the way I look, or you think I’m a smartass. I get it. The least you can do is just come out and say it, alright?”

He rubbed his face with one hand.

“Either that or just grab a shotgun and chase me off your porch,” he said flatly. “By this point, I’ve had so many people threatening me that’s it’s honestly gotten boring.”

“I beg your pardon?!” Des spat. “You’re a _lawyer!_ ”

“Yes!” Phoenix snapped. “A lawyer! I’m a person who makes sure people don’t go to prison for crimes they didn’t commit! How do you think the people who _did_ commit the crimes feel about that? And besides…”

He scratched the back of his head again.

“Like I said, I’m not a lawyer right now,” he said. “Not sure if I’m ever allowed to be again.”

Des thought back to what Hershel had told him.

“My brother says you were framed,” he recalled. “What precisely were you framed for? I notice that you’re standing here in our house in England, not languishing in some Japanifornian prison cell.”

Phoenix sighed again.

“Forging evidence, alright?” he replied. “And I’m fairly sure who did it by now. The reason I’m here in England is because I’m figuring out how I’m going to nail ‘em for ruining my life.”

Des frowned again.

“It’s been made quite clear to me that you’re native to Los Angeles,” he pointed out. “How is spending time in England going to help you catch an _American_ criminal?”

Another scratch of the neck. This was really getting annoying.

“Same problem as it was when I got framed,” Phoenix said. “Evidence. Haven’t got any. As far as I could tell, the only way to properly take this guy down would be to use a totally new justice system, so I’ve been hunting around Europe figuring out what I’m going to do with it. I’m thinking jurist system. That ought to work.”

His fingers froze.

“I think.”

He lowered his hand.

“I hope.”

Des fought against the urge to bury his face in his hands.

Not only untidy, but unfocused. As though he had never solved a single puzzle in his life.

What in the world did Hershel see in this man?!

Uh-oh. Approaching footsteps. Time to feign calmness.

“Des, I do hope you’re not grilling Phoenix too hard,” Hershel chided as he approached. “He’s our guest, after all! We wouldn’t want him to feel unwelcome!”

He stepped up to Phoenix’s side and took his hand.

“He wasn’t interrogating you too harshly, was he?” he asked.

Phoenix shrugged.

“Nothing I’m not used to,” he said, and cast Des another exhausted look. “We were just getting to know each other. Your brother’s hardly the meanest person I’ve ever had to meet.”

There it was again. When a person said something like that, it was supposed to be scathing and reductive. It was meant as a threat to intimidate the person being spoken to into backing down.

Why did this man behave as though he was willing to lie down and take it?

Was he…?

…oh dear, maybe he was. In which case, Des’ behaviour wouldn’t have helped in the slightest.

“Well,” he said, “perhaps I was being a little harsh, but it’s only because I don’t want my brother associating himself with anybody who may pose a threat to his wellbeing.”

“I assure you, Des,” said Hershel, “that Mr Wright does _not_. Phoenix, would you let me take your jacket and hat? Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Sure thing,” Phoenix replied, unzipping that ugly grey mass. “It’s nice and warm in here. Didn’t expect a place this old to have heating.”

As he turned to make his way into the dining room, Des looked over his shoulder.

That jacket wasn’t baggy at all. It wasn’t just that Phoenix was taller than him. He was broad-shouldered, his shirt worn almost to translucency and showing the toned muscle in his back, his short sleeves cupped around biceps as solid as a _brick._

And then he took that hat off and handed it to Hershel, causing messy locks of black hair to tumble all about his face, draping around his cheekbones and a jaw so square and solid it could be used to fell an oak…

Des looked away before his brother had a chance to notice how warm his cheeks had become.

Right.

Okay.

So _that_ was what Hershel saw in this man.


End file.
